“I wish to explain, ma’am.”

“Sit down.”

“I beg, Miss Wigger, that you will allow me to explain.”

“Sydney Westerfield, you are setting the worst possible example to your class.  I shall see this man myself. Will you sit down?”

Pale already, Sydney turned paler still.  She obeyed the word of command—­to the delight of the girls of her class.  It was then within ten minutes of the half hour after twelve—­when the pupils were dismissed to the playground while the cloth was laid for dinner.  What use would the teacher make of that half hour of freedom?

In the meanwhile Miss Wigger had entered her drawing-room.  With the slightest possible inclination of her head, she eyed the stranger through her green spectacles.  Even under that disadvantage his appearance spoke for itself.  The servant’s estimate of him was beyond dispute.  Mr. Herbert Linley’s good breeding was even capable of suppressing all outward expression of the dismay that he felt, on finding himself face to face with the formidable person who had received him.

“What is your business, if you please?” Miss Wigger began.

Men, animals, and buildings wear out with years, and submit to their hard lot.  Time only meets with flat contradiction when he ventures to tell a woman that she is growing old.  Herbert Linley had rashly anticipated that the “young lady,” whom it was the object of his visit to see, would prove to be young in the literal sense of the word.  When he and Miss Wigger stood face to face, if the door had been set open for him, he would have left the house with the greatest pleasure.

“I have taken the liberty of calling,” he said, “in answer to an advertisement.  May I ask”—­he paused, and took out a newspaper from the pocket of his overcoat—­“If I have the honor of speaking to the lady who is mentioned here?”

He opened the newspaper, and pointed to the advertisement.

Miss Wigger’s eyes rested—­not on the passage indicated, but on the visitor’s glove.  It fitted him to such perfection that it suggested the enviable position in life which has gloves made to order.  He politely pointed again.  Still inaccessible to the newspaper, Miss Wigger turned her spectacles next to the front window of the room, and discovered a handsome carriage waiting at the door. (Money evidently in the pockets of those beautiful trousers, worthy of the gloves!) As patiently as ever, Linley pointed for the third time, and drew Miss Wigger’s attention in the right direction at last.  She read the advertisement.

“A Young Lady wishes to be employed in the education of a little girl.  Possessing but few accomplishments, and having been only a junior teacher at a school, she offers her services on trial, leaving it to her employer to pay whatever salary she may be considered to deserve, if she obtains a permanent engagement.  Apply by letter, to S.W., 14, Delta Gardens, N.E.”